Opinion: Whose Stoppage is it Anyway?

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of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of
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Evolve Media.

It was perhaps the first advertising slogan for competitive combat,
and it came to define the gladiatorial games during and long after
their existence: munera sine missione, “no mercy shown.” No
phrase, Latin or otherwise, better captures the soul of machismo
that is both the allure and allergen of violent spectacle.

For all its efforts to distance itself from the barbaric analogue
of the coliseums, the
Ultimate Fighting Championship has employed this tried-and-true
appeal to masculinity time and time again. Back when events carried
names beyond the headliner or type of fight, titles like UFC 2 “No
Way Out” or UFC 37.5 “As Real as it Gets” were clear tips of the
hat to the same simulation of death that the Romans exploited to
fill seats.

Of course MMA, and especially MMA today, is nowhere near the
barbarism and brutishness of the Roman games; we have rules and
referees. Hence the catharsis of watching violence can be achieved
without the moral compromise of watching people kill each other. We
even have our stats about how MMA is safer than football or boxing,
since submissions and shorter competitions reduce exposure to blunt
force head trauma.

Then a fight like Hector
Lombard-Neil Magny
happens, and none of that makes it easier to helplessly watch a
fighter get pummeled into the mat with a referee obliviously
standing by.

To be sure, refereeing is no walk in the park. It is thankless work
that is only noticed when done poorly. Yet without the third man in
the fight, the sport would be vulgar and artless. Without throwing
a single strike, the referee makes the best parts of fighting
possible. All the more reason to be critical of Steve Perceval; it
is for the good of the sport that referees protect the fighters
when they are incapable of protecting themselves.

Let’s skim past the fact that the fight had the full profile of a
strong co-headliner and that it took place in a country where mixed
martial arts is still not completely legal; any good-natured
Australian who felt disinclined to legalize it beforehand probably
did not leave
UFC Fight Night “Hunt vs. Mir” on Saturday in Brisbane
persuaded otherwise. The issue here is not the political
ramifications of a painfully prolonged beatdown. The real issue is
fighter safety.

Magny outlanded Lombard 142-9 in round two, including a UFC record
100 significant ground strikes. Though none of those strikes were
clean knockout blows, they didn’t have to be: Lombard had no
defense other than letting his head get bounced off the canvas. To
put it in simpler terms, he was not intelligently defending himself
by any stretch of the imagination. As such, the fight should have
been stopped before the end of what was legitimately a 10-8 or 10-7
round.

Letting the fight continue was not just poor officiating. It showed
a concerning lack of understanding of the sport, a notion further
validated by the fact that none of the judges scored a single 10-8
round in the fight. From my vantage point, it looked like both
rounds should have been at least 10-8. To add Down Under insult to
downright injury, this all happened less than a year removed from
the otherworldly beating Stipe
Miocic handed Mark Hunt in
Southern Australia at UFC Fight Night 65 that also went on longer
than it should have.

Beyond the inexcusable yet understandable professional incompetence
in a relatively new market, there is still sturdy inertia behind
the misplaced notion that throwing in the towel or tapping to
strikes is somehow cowardly or worthy of ridicule. I hate to be
this cliché about it, but stepping into a cage to fight another
person requires wells of courage that most of us will never dig
deep enough to find. As much as I relish in the metaphorical value
and concrete dynamism of professional fighting, there comes a point
when unimpeded punches to a man flat on his back or stomach is too
much to enjoy. I’d like to maintain some sort of moral high ground
over backyard felony fights, whose seedy thrills are best reserved
for early AM insomnia -- and in close proximity to a shower.

No, removing a fighter from harm’s way is as courageous as helping
him get there, maybe more so because it requires a more nuanced
type of courage: humility. I don’t fault the fighters for pushing
themselves until someone intervenes; that’s what they train their
bodies and minds to do. The onus then is on the corner to call the
fight, should the ref drop the ball. In the case of Lombard, it is
particularly perplexing since he returned to the corner in between
rounds two and three, and none of his coaches thought it necessary
to tell him he’d had enough. I understand wanting to give your
fighter every opportunity to win, but more important is giving him
the opportunity to avoid taking unnecessary punishment. A properly
functioning brain is so much more valuable than a victory.

Contrast that with the headlining fight, where Hunt was both lucky
and gracious enough to be able to see how out-of-it Frank Mir was
and skip the perfunctory follow-up strikes to get the ref time to
intervene. Longevity in this sport is still a nebulous phenomenon,
but it is common sense to think that it is more attainable when the
amount of extra damage fighters absorb is minimized as much as
possible.

I’m not casting judgment on anyone. It was an exciting fight, both
in the narrative elements of a back-from-the-brink win for Magny
and the all-around action itself. We watch this sport because of --
not in spite of -- its built-in violence. The speechless excitement
I felt watching Joo Hwan Kim slam Jung Bum Choi into
unconsciousness at Top
Fighting Championship 10 on Saturday in Seoul is exactly what fans
want to see, and it was no less dangerous than a constant
barrage of mounted punches from Magny. I’m no saint, but I still
would not allow a friend, student or training partner to take
punishment like that on my watch.

Although there are moral and political undercurrents to this, the
heart of it all is simple and pragmatic: Protect the fighters who
put it all on the line for our entertainment. This is not ancient
Rome, and a little mercy goes a long way. It’s not like they’re
getting paid that well, anyway.

Hailing from Kailua, Hawai’i, Eric Stinton has been contributing
to Sherdog since 2014. He received his BFA in Creative Writing from
Chapman University and graduate degree in Special Education from
University of Hawai’i. He is an occasional columnist for Honolulu
Civil Beat, and his work has also appeared in The Classical. You
can find his writing at ericstinton.com. He currently lives in Seoul with his
fiancé and dachshund.